


i was made to keep your body warm

by internetakeover (nymeriahale)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymeriahale/pseuds/internetakeover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an overly fluffy pneumonia fic set in pajama week<br/>///<br/>Dan aches in his bones. Well, he says his bones, it’s not like it's all of 206 them, only the 24 that sit in his ribcage - do you have 12 pairs of ribs? Dan’s suddenly unsure - and really, he guesses it’s his lungs. The point <i>is</i> that Dan aches. It hurts especially when he breathes, which, as it turns out, is surprisingly frequent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was made to keep your body warm

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/alittledizzy/status/755515211306536960) from the wonderful [dizzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy/)!  
> title from [Kiss Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xo2y_k3yDgg) by Ed Sheeran  
> also available on [tumblr](http://internetakeover.tumblr.com/post/148261594842/i-was-made-to-keep-your-body-warm-summary-an)

Dan aches in his bones. Well, he says his bones, it’s not like it's all 206 of them, only the 24 that sit in his ribcage - do you have 12 pairs of ribs? Dan’s suddenly unsure - and really, he guesses it’s his lungs. The point _is_ that Dan aches. It hurts especially when he breathes, which, as it turns out, is surprisingly frequent.

“Ow,” Dan moans on an exhale, after a particularly harsh cough.

“Shh,” Phil says unsympathetically, clicking the volume on Bates Motel up a little.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Dan protests, his indignation just leading to another round of coughing. 

Thankfully he seems to look pathetic enough to win Phil’s sympathy when he’s done and just sits perfectly still, head tipped back against the wall, breathing hard. Phil lets out a soft huff and tugs Dan closer towards him, Dan moving readily to rest his head on Phil’s shoulder. Dan sighs when he’s settled, shivering a little as the extra line of warmth along his torso sinks into his fevered body.

“You okay?” Phil asks, frowning as he feels Dan’s body vibrate. “It’s been a while, you’ll be better soon,” he continues, before Dan can complain.

Dan certainly hopes so, so doesn’t bother to argue that he hasn’t been feeling any better since the start of the cold, just squeezes an arm around Phil’s back to try and steal more of his warmth. He smiles and presses a kiss to Phil’s shoulder as Phil brings a hand up to play with the curls at the top of Dan’s neck, letting out a low sound, almost a purr, as Phil switches to dig his thumb into the tense muscles there.

“Good?” Phil checks, voice quiet in an attempt not to disrupt the TV.

“Good,” Dan confirms, muttered, eyelids fluttering shut briefly as Phil circles his thumb in a particularly tense spot. He doesn’t even know how his neck got tense when all he’s done for the last few days is lie in bed, but he’s almost glad it did just for the sensation of Phil easing it.

Dan manages to stay awake through the end of the episode, Phil’s touch grounding him as he focuses about as hard on keeping his eyes open as on following the plot. 

“D’you want to sleep?” Phil asks quietly at the credits roll.

Dan snaps his eyes open. “I did, just before the episode!” he protests, hearing the note of petulance in his voice but both unable and unwilling to reign it in. “All I’ve done this week is sleep, it’s making the jetlag worse, and we’re never going to finish Bates Motel-” Dan’s petulance turns into anger at his body as he succumbs to coughing before he can finish his sentence, and he tries to swear through it. 

That doesn’t turn out to be the best idea, and the anger fades quickly as Dan keeps coughing, melting into exhausted frustration as Phil strokes his back when the force of his coughs send Dan leaning forwards, doubling over his legs.

“I should sleep,” Dan admits wearily when he finally stops coughing, accepting a glass of water from a concerned looking Phil. “This was meant to be a week for us, I’m sorry I’m ruining it,” Dan mutters as he hands the glass back, feeling his eyes prick with frustrated tears at the thought of even more time wasted in sleep, in his own lonely bed, because they can’t afford Phil getting sick too.

“Wait,” Phil says from behind him, stopping Dan with a hand on his shoulder as he twists towards the side of the bed.

Phil’s barely resting the weight of his hand on Dan’s shoulder, yet Dan can’t summon up the energy to keep moving with that added resistance. He closes his eyes, feeling a hot tear slip down his cheek and swallowing to stop Phil hearing the roughness in his voice. “What?” Dan asks, bluntly, desperate to escape before Phil can see him breaking. He’s only crying because he’s so exhausted, because he hates being so weak. It’s not even really crying, or only in the way any response to pain is. 

“Stay here,” Phil invites, voice low, imploring.

Dan almost breaks again with how much he wants to. “I can’t, we can’t have you getting sick too,” he says, sensibly. It’s the only thing to do.

“I’ve already been exposed,” Phil says, equally sensible. “At this point it can’t make much difference, and I must have been exposed to whoever you got it off, too. Just... stay.” 

Phil tugs at Dan’s shoulder with his last word, and Dan goes easily, half lying back against the headboard, not knowing how to resist. It’s not actually a very comfortable position, but lying against Phil’s side, staring up at him, Dan wouldn’t take the whole of his own bed over this. Phil’s expression softens impossibly further as his eyes flick over Dan’s no doubt exhausted face, creasing with concern when he spots the tear on Dan’s cheek. He wipes it away gently, leans down to kiss Dan’s forehead, and Dan feels another tear slip out as he closes his eyes at the tenderness.

“Love you,” Dan murmurs, voice caught on the lump in his throat rather than the tightness in his chest for once. He takes Phil’s hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss, still unwilling to infect Phil and put him through this.

“You too,” Phil responds, pulling his hand away to stroke through Dan’s hair. “You must be nearly over it by now, sleep,” he instructs once more.

“Let me just-” Dan cuts himself off, pushing up a little so he can actually rearrange to lie down comfortably. Moving to his own room to sleep had felt like an insurmountable task, but shifting down the bed and resting his head on Phil’s thigh, pillow under his shoulder, is the easiest thing in the world. “Okay?” he checks, blinking up at Phil.

“Perfect,” Phil confirms, leaning over to pick up a book from the bedside table. He opens it with one hand and sinks the other into Dan’s hair. Dan lets out a sigh at the feeling, giving up the fight to keep his eyes open. He can’t help but think that it’s probably mildly disgusting, his hair tangled from days without bothering to do much of anything, and given his wildly varying relationship to temperature probably a bit damp with fever, but he appreciates the contact nonetheless. As Phil twists his fingers through the curls on Dan’s forehead, Dan comes to a sudden realisation.

“You just want to play with the, the, hobbit mess,” Dan accuses, forcing his eyes open again to glare up at Phil.

Phil hums, seemingly considering. “Is that a complaint?” he asks mildly, tugging gently on Dan’s hair. 

The air punches out of Dan’s lungs on a breathy noise and his eyes drop shut again. He waits a second to check that he’s not going to cough. 

“I can stop if you want?” Phil teases, taking advantage of Dan’s brief silence and pulling his hand away.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dan insists, pushing back into the vanishing touch.

“That’s what I thought,” Phil says, and Dan can hear the smile in his voice, doesn’t bother trying to hide his own when Phil’s hand sinks back into his hair properly. He briefly rubs his cheek against Phil’s thigh in an impulsive, potentially weird, form of thanks, before settling into place with a sigh of contentment.

Dan drifts off to the sound of pages turning, the feel of Phil solid and warm beneath him, and the stroke of gentle fingers through his hair. He may be sick, but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.


End file.
